


wesson & snow law: where experience matters

by tuesdead



Category: Supernatural
Genre: But he's gay, Canonical Character Death, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Cussing, Fighting, Gay Sam Winchester, Hunting, Jess still dies, John is not a dick, Lawyer Sam Winchester, Mentions Of Soulmates, Multi, Sam Winchester has a kid, Sam has a lot of straight sex, Sam is loved, Sam moves from Harvard to Stanford after Jess dies, Sexual Experimentation, Slow Updates, Soulmarks, These tags are not in order, Wincest - Freeform, and he fucks a lot, and he loves his brother, by the way, i'll put notes at the beginning of those chapters, lawyers for hunters, meaning sam kisses dean before he goes to college and dean was not okay with it, mentions of non-consensual kissing, sam says fuck a lot, samdean endgame, the soulmark thing isn't the plot of the story, there's some badly written smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-06 14:19:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17346782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdead/pseuds/tuesdead
Summary: Sam Winchester gets his Bachelor’s in Folklore and Mythology from Harvard University when he’s twenty. After his best friend dies in a fire, he moves across the country to pursue his SJD at Stanford University, which he completes after three years for his JD, a year for the Masters, and three years for his SJD. In no time, he and a close friend open a law firm for the wrongly accused and misunderstood, only handling the most special of cases.Or where Sam is gay, doesn’t go to Stanford at first, loses a friend at school but keeps going, opens a law firm with a geeky friend and only handles Hunter cases: except nobody knows that he used to be one.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a mess but please enjoy

**_wesson & snow: where experience matters_ **

Sam grinned at the girl sitting on the bar stool beside his, her laugh was infectious. “You’re kidding.”

She shook her head. “No, I swear! We got so drunk that we forgot we were in our own house and drove around the block before we realized.”

He lost it, tossing his head back to laugh. “My brother would get a kick out of that. He makes fun of me when I get drunk because I turn all mushy and soft.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “You guys are close, aren’t you?”

As usual when it came to Dean, Sam’s chest grew a little heavy, because thinking about it never felt too good after a while. “We used to be… When I left for college, though… Something happened between us, and he’s never going to look at me the same.”

He hand was soft on his shoulder, and warm, the feeling sinking into his shirt and lifting his mood a little bit. “I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to upset you. Let’s get out of here. I have popcorn back at my place. We could put in a cheesy movie and forget about it for tonight.”

A cheesy movie and some buttery, unhealthy snacks could ease Sam’s mind, but he promised somebody something. He smiled a little bit. “I really wish I could, but… I have to do some research for somebody.”

“Like, schoolwork? Sam, it’s December 21st.”

He smiled. “No rest for the wicked, huh Jess?” He kissed her cheek before he got up, dropping the cash on the counter to settle his tab. “I’ll see you at work, okay?”

“Okay, Sam. Bye sweetie.”

-

Sometimes, Sam liked to daydream about the open road, about hunting with Dean, but he had to let go of them before things got too melancholy, because Sam couldn’t handle the thoughts that were sure to follow. So, he made it back to his dorm and locked his door, powering up his laptop for some research and plugging his phone in just in time for a call to come through. “Hello?”

_“Hey Sammy. How you doing?”_

“Dad, hey. I’m okay. I was just about to do some digging on the werewolf issue you asked about.”

His father chuckled. _“I didn’t ask you to research, Sam. Just if you knew anything.”_

“I don’t mind, if you need me to.” He shrugged his shoulders, even though John couldn’t see him.

_“Son, you’re at school. You should be hanging out with friends, not taking care of me.”_

Sam sighed. “I have time, Dad. I probably sleep more than you do, and I’m not getting hurt every other day. Let me do some research for you every once in a while, okay?” He smiled when his father sighed. “Especially because I know Dean hates doing research. I really don’t mind.”

Finally, John conceded, and Sam promised to call once he had something. Then he turned to his computer to start looking.

-

_“Hello?”_

Shit. Why was Dean answering Dad’s phone?

“Put Dad on.”

_“Sam? Is something wrong?”_

“No, Dean. I just have some information for him.”

_“I thought you wanted to get out of the life. Is he making you--”_

Sam sighed, running his hand through his hair. “No, he’s not. I insisted. Put him on?”

 _“Sorry, you’re going to have to talk to me. He’s_ busy _hustling pool.”_

If Sam didn’t know how bad they probably needed the money, he’d hang up and call later, but it would only result in a pissed off Dad and sulky Dean, so he sighed and listed off the facts about the werewolf issue, which wasn’t very simple at all. Dean was silent while he talked, only starting something once he was finished with the intel.

_“So, you’ll talk to Dad and not me, now, Sam?”_

“Man, come on. I didn’t start this.”

 _“Well, it’s not finished, either, Sam.”_ Dean sounded sober, so he must just be there to keep an eye on Dad. The music in the bar sounded too country for it to be too trashy anyway. _“I want an answer. Did you, or did you not fucking walk in on me and that girl?_ And _\--”_

“Dean,” Sam interrupted, rubbing tiredly at his jaw. “You can ask the same question as many times as you want, but you’re just going to have to let it go. Whether I did or didn't doesn't matter.”

 _“I want the truth.”_ He heard Dean order a shot and rolled his eyes. _“First you said you did. Then you said you didn’t. But_ somebody _took that picture, Sam. If it was you, you had no right--”_

“Fuck you, Dean. Why the hell would I take a picture of you having sex with some girl whose name I didn’t know? Especially when _you’re my brother and that would be so fucking wrong_.”

Dean was quiet for a moment. _“It wasn’t wrong when you kissed me before you left?”_ he whispered.

“Why do you think I won’t talk to you? You think I don’t know there’s something wrong with me, Dean? I’m trying to…” He huffed. “Good-bye.”

Just as Dean started to protest, Sam hung up the phone, pressing his knuckles to his eyes so nothing could slip out, such as the tears that were gathering there. Fucking Dean. Stupid picture. Of _course_ he didn’t take that picture, nor did he put it with Dean’s stuff, because he was sleeping in the backseat of the Impala when all of that went on.

It didn’t matter anyway. He wasn’t going home for a long time, so it needed to be let go.

-

“Sam. Dude. Yo! Can you unlock--I forgot my key! Sam, please wake up! Sam!”

Sam jolted upright in his desk chair, coming to from a damn good dream feeling absolutely awful, because it was a dream, and rubbing his eyes.

“Sam!”

Oh, that’s what woke him up. Right. “Coming, I’m coming. Jeez, Pres, start tying that thing around your neck or something.”

Preston all but fell into their shared dorm, dropping a huge pile of books and then scrambling to pick them up before Sam could see them.

“Dude, if you think _Australian Aboriginal Legends_ is going to freak me out, then you should check out my browser history,” Sam offered, picking up the only book that had fallen into the hall before shutting their door. “It’s 2 AM, where did you get these this late?”

Preston shuffled his feet. “A-a friend of my mom’s. I just got back from Lexington.”

Sam smiled, tossing the book onto his roommate’s bed, and dropped back onto his desk chair. He leaned over, dragging a duffel out from under his bed, he needed to do something to get his mind off the conversation with Dean. “You’ll, uh. You won’t tell the RA about this, will you?”

“Don’t tell me you smoke pot?” Preston complained.

Sam glanced at him over his shoulder. “What? Dude.” He pulled his knives out of the duffel to polish them. “I meant these. Cleaning them… it helps me relax.”

He looked at them for a moment, face blank, and then he smiled. “What’s to tell? I see nothing.”

-

“Hello?” Sam answered his phone half asleep, too tired to read the caller or the time.

_“I’m sorry Dean was giving you a hard time.”_

“Dad. It’s not a big deal. He told you about the werewolf, right?”

_“Yeah, Sammy. You did good. I won’t leave my phone with him again. I wasn’t expecting you to call back so soon, son.”_

“Not your fault, it’s my problem, I have to deal with it, Dad.”

_“He’s being too hard on you.”_

“I don’t expect much less. We’ve always been hard on each other.”

_“This is different, Sam. You can’t help it.”_

Sam sighed, sensing the stress in his father’s voice, but he knew things weren’t going to change. “I should have controlled myself, Dad. This is my fault, I have to listen to him bitch about it, but he shouldn’t take it out on you.”

John tried to reason that Sam wasn’t the issue, but as far as Sam was concerned, that argument wouldn’t hold up in court, so he changed the subject as soon as he could. “How’d the hunt go?”

A pause, and then _“Dean got hurt. After the argument on the phone, he was being an idiot and you know how reckless he is when he’s pissed off…”_

“Dad… Tell me he didn’t get bitten?”

_“No, no. He’s just really cut up, I couldn’t stitch everything, so I had to take him to the ER.”_

Sam let out the breath he’d been holding. “Okay.”

“Sam,” said his friend from across the room. “It is five in the fucking morning.”

“Dad, I gotta go. My roommate’s being bitchy.”

_“Okay, Sammy. I love you, son.”_

Sam smiled a little. “Love you too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a christmas surprise and bed-sharing and a plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still a mess but here ya go

Snow was always the best thing Sam could hope to see on Christmas Eve. Or, it used to be. Right now, he just missed his brother. Their last fight had been on the twenty-first. They hadn’t spoken in the three days that followed, even though it was Christmas. Sam didn’t even really get out of bed except for work, but the shop where he worked with Jess was closed for the rest of the week, and he wasn’t in the mood to talk to any of his friends, so in bed he stayed. 

He heard a few people outside his room at one point, and one of them knocked, but he didn’t have the energy to care whether they stood out there or not. Preston went to his dad’s for Christmas, and Jess, after checking on him, had flown home for the holiday as well. 

Sam considered going to Bobby’s but didn’t want to risk running into his brother or the fight that was sure to follow. That, and he didn’t want to waste the money on a plane ticket, because there was no way he could get to Bobby’s by Christmas driving. 

_ Knock knock _ . 

Waiting. 

_ Knock knock.  _

Silence. “I’m sleeping.” 

_ Knock knock knock,  _ rather impatiently. 

A huff, putting a beanie on, making sure he had sweatpants on over his boxers, and then Sam opened the door. He paused in confusion. 

“Why the hell do you gotta keep a guy waiting? There’s like, no heat in this hallway!”

Sam stepped back, automatically letting the man in, even though he couldn’t process that the man was there.

“Quit looking at me like that.” 

Exhale. “Dean?” 

His older brother rolled his eyes, rubbing his hands together. “I know, I know. What the fuck are you doing here, it’s a blizzard outside, we aren’t even talking, you’re an idiot.” He shrugged. “I--Sammy--I didn’t want you to be alone on Christmas. It would--be the first one we didn’t spend together…” 

He couldn’t help it. He dragged Dean into a hug, ignoring the surprised squawk that came out of his mouth. “Thanks Dean.” 

“You were going to mope in bed, weren’t you?” Dean muttered into Sam’s bare shoulder after a moment. 

“Yeah,” he admits, releasing his hold. Dean was still shivering, so Sam turned to the heater and cranked it up a little bit, rubbing his eyes at the same time. “Room is a little messy. Wasn’t expecting company.” 

Dean dropped onto Sam’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Dude, we’ve lived together our entire lives. A messy room is nothing compared to some of the things I’ve seen.” 

“Yeah, but you’re usually the one with used condoms on the floor,” Sam prodded, sitting in his desk chair. 

Dean sat up. “What?!” 

Sam laughed, fighting a grin. “I’m kidding you germaphobe.” 

Dean blinked at him. “Oh.” Then he tossed a pillow which Sam caught and threw back. Like that, Dean fell back again, keeping his eyes from Sam’s view. “You are taking care of yourself, right Sam? You’re not digging any holes?” 

“I promise, Dean. I’m not even the one who salts the windows at night. Preston is pretty superstitious.” Sam crossed his arms behind his head, leaning back in the chair. “And going to school means I can’t hurt anyone.” 

Dean’s gaze cut to him. “Sam, come on.  _ Now  _ you feel guilty?” 

“There wasn’t a time that I didn’t, Dean. It’s not a conversation to be held over the phone.” He avoided looking at his brother. He just couldn’t. Not right now. 

“Sam,” he started, but the youngest Winchester interrupted him. 

“I’m  _ sick, _ Dean. Dad and I, we talked about it. Leaving is pretty much the only solution we came up with. There’s nothing to explain, the action speaks for itself. But we knew before, and it was only a matter of time, Dean. I screwed up. As usual. I’m sorry that I did that to you. But I just… No matter if I’m fucked up, I’m not sorry for the way I feel. Now that it’s out of the way--” Sam got up. “--let’s watch a movie.” 

-

Sam yawned, rubbing his eyes, waking with an odd crick in his neck. Had he pulled something yesterday? Did he and Preston go sparring? No… Maybe he’d fallen asleep at his desk early on and crawled into bed half-asleep. And why couldn’t he move his legs? He could feel them, but it was like… like they were trapped. He was sure he hadn’t slept with anyone last night. He definitely didn’t smell sex, or the after effects of it. 

Besides, no girl felt that solid on top of him.

What day was it, anyway? Did he and Preston konk out while reading up on something for class?

No. Wait… It was Christmas. Dean had come up so he wouldn't be alone. They fell asleep watching Raiders of the Lost Ark. 

He had the fleeting hope that his laptop did not get broken when they crashed. 

He gently pushed Dean off of him and stumbled to the bathroom, relieving himself and brushing his teeth. He ran his fingers through his hair with a little water, trying to tame it, but gave up and stripped, deciding to just shower instead. 

Towel at his waist, Sam shoved through his dresser, searching for clean sweats, yet finding none and having to wear boxers to throw laundry in at the end of the hall. When he got back, Dean was finally stirring, and accidentally rolled himself off the bed, jerking awake when he hit the floor. 

Sam cackled. “Morning sleeping beauty.” 

“Screw you,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?” 

Sam glanced at the clock. “Ten.” He turned to the window, smiling at the blanketed snow. It was so still outside he felt like they were in their own little world and nothing could ruin it. Ha. What a load of bull. 

“Sammy?”

He glanced back at Dean, who had dragged himself off the floor. “Huh?”

“Merry Christmas.” 

He grinned. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

-

“Sam, are you in there?” 

Dean shoved Sam off the bed, waking him up from his afternoon nap. “Some chick wants you.” 

Sam rubbed his hip, smacking his brother in the head. “Yeah?” 

“Sam, it’s Jess… Can I come in?” 

Growing worried, Sam pulled a shirt on and headed to the door, her voice was choked off, like she was trying to hold back tears. He let her inside, pulling her into a hug. “What’s wrong? I thought you were supposed to be in Alabama for another week.” 

She sobbed. “I w-was, but, remember that guy I told you about, Marcus? My parents invited him to the house. Sam, I’ve tried so hard to--”

He rubbed her arms, muttering something reassuring to her. “If he follows you here, we’ll handle it. You don’t even have to look at him, okay, Jess? I promise, you’re safe here.” He chewed his lip. “You’re cold as ice, Jess.” 

A hand on his shoulder, then Dean was draping a blanket around her. “Here you go, kiddo.” 

Sam gently pulled away, wiping Jess’s tears. “Jess, this is Dean. He’s a big softie, so there’s no need to be afraid.” 

She cooed up at Sam. “You made up?” 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “We’re okay. Do you want me to go grab coffee? I don’t think I can drink anymore warm Sprite.” 

Jess nodded. “I’d appreciate it, Sam. I’m sure Dean and I can find something to talk about.” 

-

When Sam was gone, Jess sat on his bed, curling her feet under her, and stared up at Dean. He looked a little uncomfortable, but not much. He rubbed his jaw for a moment, meeting her eyes. “So… what’s the deal with the guy? Is he… Did he hurt you?” 

Jess frowned, but she nodded. “Yeah. We met in high school and he was the hot, funny, badboy. Everyone wanted to end up with him, and I’m the one who did. Except, he turned out to be a complete douchebag, as long as everyone else wasn’t looking. In front of my parents, he was the sweetest guy ever, but I knew better. And now that I’ve met Sam, I’m pretty sure  _ he’s  _ the sweetest guy ever.” 

Dean eased onto the desk chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Are you guys…?” 

Her eyes widened. “Dean… He never came out at home? Sam’s gay. Mostly.” 

What? “He is? What do you mean by mostly?” 

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Well, he’s only into guys. But, when he sleeps around, it’s almost always with a girl. When he’s tipsy.”

A phone rang, Sam’s, which was sitting on his desk. Dean looked at the caller ID before picking it up. “Hey Dad.” 

“Is Sam there?” 

“He just went for coffee. Should be back soon. Why?” 

“I guess Bobby sent him a bottle of scotch for spending the holiday moping.” 

“He’s holding out on me?! Do you think he’ll be mad if I look for it?” 

“Dean, it would be unwise. He’s stronger than you.” 

“I’m still the older brother, though.” 

John sighed. “Just ask him when he gets back. No body shots, though. I’m not going to deal with another fight like that from you two.”

-

“Dude, no, faeries are bad news. I promise you, you don’t want to make a deal with them. Russell--no, don’t try to reason with it! Making a deal with faeries means that all the firstborn males in the area get abducted. No joke. Exactly, that means your brother.” 

Sam listened to Preston from their bathroom, amused, because did his roommate really think he was hiding it that well? He walked out, and Preston hurriedly claimed to say goodbye to his mother. 

“I thought your mom’s name was Pamela,” Sam pointed out. “Russell is a friend of yours?”

Preston sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ve never had to lie like this before. Just, don’t call the RA and tell her I’m insane.” 

A pause while Sam pulled his blanket back and settled in his bed, shutting off his lamp. “How long have you been hunting, Pres?” 

Preston’s lamp flicked on. “How do you… Are you a hunter, too?” 

Sam nodded. 

“Since I was ten,” Preston finally answered. “When my parents divorced, and my mom won the custody battle. Dad didn’t want me to be a hunter, but Mom wanted me to at least train. Guess they fought about it a lot. I still go see my Dad, but… You know. So, is your name really Sam Wesson?” 

Sam laughed. “No, my name is Sam Winchester.” 

Preston shot up in his bed. “Y-you’re one of the Winchesters?” 

Sam rolled onto his side, blinking. “You’ve heard of us?” 

“Dude,  _ most  _ hunters have heard of you, but I just thought you were legends. Why are you  _ here _ ?”

“It’s really complicated, dude.” Sam sat up and scratched the back of his neck. “But, hey, what are you going to college for?” 

“You mean after I get out of Web Design? I’m thinking of going into Law, actually.” 

“Shut up,” Sam said, surprised. “That’s what I’m doing.” 

Preston laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, this is weird. You’re gonna be a lawyer?” 

“See, I have this idea…”

-

“Yeah, the lore says he’ll suck the life out of people. No, we think it’s literal, like the corpse, is it dried up? Missing some of the important bits, like eyes and tongue? That’s what we thought. Okay. Thanks Mom. Love you too.” 

The door opened, and Jess dropped onto Sam’s bed, right beside him, reading the old book over his shoulder. “This is what you have to read for class?” 

Sam looked up at her, smiling. “Nah. The stuff for class is a lot more boring and based on tales.  _ This  _ is a bunch of facts.” 

“Facts. Right. Okay, nerds. Do you want anything when I get off work tonight? I can bring back pizza while we crack down on finals.” 

Sam and Preston shared a “hell yeah” look, and Sam wrapped a huge arm around her. “You’re the best. Thanks Jess.” 

When she shut the door, Preston crossed his arms. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you guys were dating. How is this possible? How come girls drool all over you and you’re never interested, but none of them even look at me?!”

“Because you’re socially awkward. Just turn on the Federal Agent charm, dude.” 

“It doesn’t work for everyone like it does you, Sam,” Preston complained.

“Well, for one, I’m not interested because I’m gay. And two: I have  _ rules _ because I have  _ issues _ . I don’t date, and I don’t sleep with my friends. So, yeah, that’s probably why girls like Jess don’t feel weird about clinging to me. You’re just too obvious.”

“Gee, thanks Samuel.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Are you sure you’re not gay?”

Preston groaned. “Okay, Sam, that’s enough teasing.” 

“Pres. Man, I’m just asking.” 

“Well, I don’t know. Okay?” 

“So, go find someone who won’t mind helping you figure it out.”

“Sam. Hello? Socially awkward here. I can’t just go out and ask someone to let me experiment on them.” 

Well, when Sam thought about it, Preston had a point. But that didn’t stop him from scheming, so that maybe his best friend wouldn’t complain so much, and maybe he’d discover something about himself. 

So, when Preston went for his shower, Sam called Jess. 

“Hey Sam. We still on for pizza and finals?” she asked. Sam could hear the coffee shop’s upbeat music in the background, smiled to himself. 

“Yeah, but I also have a plan. See, here’s the thing. Pres doesn’t know if he likes guys or girls, and I thought maybe we could help him. Who knows, maybe he likes both.” 

“So, what, he kisses both of us to figure it out?” 

Sam smiled. “I love you because you’re smart.” 

“You love me because I go along with anything you say,” she revised, but Sam could hear the smile in her voice. “Okay, you win. Do you have alcohol?” 

“Yep.” 

“He’s going to need it, poor bastard.” 

Sam laughed. “Okay. Thanks, Jess. Now he can’t whine every time we cuddle.” 

“Did you tell him he doesn’t have to avoid us? He can cuddle too, it’s just comfy time.” 

“He’ll get there. Bye, love you.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uh. Sam has an idea to help Preston out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very badly written sex scene between Sam and Preston.

“How do you do it?” Preston asked, staring at Sam across their pile of books. Jess and Sam both looked up from their work. 

“Do what?” 

“Sleep with girls and it not bother you. And why do they come to you even though you’re gay?” 

Sam shrugged, turning to Jess for her input. The blonde rolled her eyes, shutting her book. “Preston, it’s science. Sam pretends he’s sleeping with whatever guy he’s pining over. And the only girls that come to him are the ones that aren’t looking for a steady thing. Like, for instance, the girl broke up with her boyfriend, and she needs to get off, so somebody tells her about Sam, the sexy, sweet, gay guy who doesn’t mind the female anatomy, and she meets up with him when he gets off work.” 

Preston cocked his head. “But what is that like?” 

“The girls, or Sam?” Jess asked, smirking. She gave Sam a look and he pulled out his bottle of scotch that Bobby sent him for Christmas. “Okay, Pres. It’s time to get you drunk.” 

He scrutinized the bottle, confused. “For what?” 

Sam set the bottle on a stack of books. “So that you can decide who you’re attracted to. Okay? Sound decent?” 

“Huh?” 

Jess leaned forward, swiftly twisting the cap from the liquor bottle. “Drink, Preston.” 

-

His friends were adorable. It was all Sam could think, and he was glad he met them. They were all affectionate drunks, he was just glad that he decided to stay sober. “Pres, hey bud. You should kiss Jess.” 

Pres smiled lazily. “Nah.” 

Jessica pouted. “Why not? I thought you wanted to know if you like girls or boys?” 

“Or both,” Sam added. 

After a moment, Preston sat up, grinning. “Oh yeah.” Then he leaned forward and softly pressed his lips to their best friend’s. Sam simply waited, eyebrow raised, until they separated. 

Preston leaned back, swiping his thumb across his lips. “I mean. I liked it.” 

“Well, now you have to kiss Sam, so you know if you like that, too.” Jess crossed her arms, waiting. Preston just nodded, turning to Sam. 

“Any day now, Pres. I can’t make the first move.” Sam stayed in his place, until finally, Preston leaned forward and caught his chin, pulling him into a kiss. 

“Oh.” Preston sat back. “But I really liked that, too.” He frowned. “What does  _ that _ mean? Am I weird?” 

Sam chuckled. “Preston, that just means you’re bisexual. There’s nothing weird about it.” He flushed a little when he saw the hardness in Preston’s sweats, but chose not to embarrass him further.

Jess smiled. “Okay boys, I have to go get some sleep. How about we bake cookies in the community kitchen tomorrow night?” 

“It’s a date,” Sam said, pulling her into a hug before he helped her collect her stuff. When he shut the door behind her, locking it like he always did, Preston’s voice made him pause. 

“Sam… Do you think you could make an exception?”

“To what?”

“Um… Sleeping with friends.” 

Part of Sam wanted to say no. Preston had had plenty to drink. But, at the same time, his best friend sounded absolutely wrecked and a little desperate. How could he refuse? Sigh. He turned around, studying the shorter boy. Preston was strong. Hunter training did that to guys. But Sam had at least six inches on him, so he was constantly staring down at the guy. No wonder Preston looked a little scared. He also looked  _considerably_ turned on

“One time?” he asked softly. 

Preston’s head bobbed up and down, but for some reason, Sam didn’t really believe him. He relented anyway. “Okay, Pres.” 

-

He had Preston’s t-shirt off in a few seconds, ran his fingers down the center of his torso. “If any part of you is sober, remember to tell me if you want to stop. Okay?” He had goosebumps where Sam’s fingers had touched him.

“C'mon, Sam.” 

And then he had his hands in the waistband of Sam’s sweatpants and he was pulling them down his hips, simultaneously pulling Sam toward his bed. Sam shrugged and lifted his shirt over his head, tossing it behind him. 

Sam slowly worked Preston open, adding one finger at a time, using his left hand to stroke his cock, muttering reassurances whenever he sucked in a sharp breath. Then he finally found his prostate, and the smaller man moaned loud enough for the rest of the hallway to hear him. Sam chuckled, dragging his fingers across the small spot again in his roommate’s silky-smooth heat, shushing him at the same time.

_ “Sam.” _ He repeated the same line over and over again, louder when Sam replaced his fingers with his dick.

“ _Fuckfuckfuck_.” He pushed harder and harder until they were both falling apart and he was nearly collapsing on top of his friend, pulling out all the way before thrusting in harder and faster than he had, groaning as they both fell over the edge and Preston’s inner muscles contracted around him. Once he got feeling back in his limbs, he pulled out, tying the condom and tossing it into the trash.

-

Sam dragged Preston into the shower and got both of them cleaned up, feeling kind of guilty for letting Preston talk him into having sex when he was clearly still pretty wasted. Too late, however, so he pushed Preston into his bed and pulled boxers on before dropping into his own, exhausted. His phone rang. 

“Hello?” 

_ “You sound like you just got fucked.”  _

“ _ Dean _ , why am I not surprised that’s the first thing you’d notice?” 

His brother chuckled. _“So you did, huh?”_

Sam groaned. “What do you want?” 

_ “Who was she?”  _

He reached a hand toward his nightstand, clicking the fan on. “He’s my roommate.” 

_“Ahh. Is he clean?”_

“Dude. He’d never done it before. Besides, it’s not like I don’t know how to use a condom.” 

_ “I thought you only slept with girls so you wouldn’t catch feelings.” _

Sam wasn’t sure how Dean knew that, assumed Jess said something to him, and shrugged. “He was practically begging and I guess I was the one who got him hard in the first place, so… Besides, I seriously doubt I’m going to ‘catch feelings’, as you put it. I don’t think I can.” 

Dean was quiet for a moment, and Sam came to the conclusion that his feelings for Dean were bringing an elephant into the room. 

“So what did you call about?” 

_ “Oh. Um, when you get up in the morning--I’m assuming it’s night?--can you look up…” _


End file.
